Pah-chin Tokyo Revengers Novels & Stories

"Holy crap, you are so boring!" He pushed her against the wall, placing his hands on either side of her and staring into her eyes in frustration. He is shirtless and has flat abs touching her body, which is giving her goosebumps. "I don't know how to kiss." She looked at the man, pouting her lips. He scoffed at her boring reply. "Teach me how to kiss." She mumbled, licking her lips, and grabbed his attention. He looked down at her and stroked his hair with his fingers, pulling her close by her waist. "Stand on my toes." He smirked, sending chills down her spine. She climbed over, placing both feet on his toes. "Look into my eyes." He grabbed her chin and make her look into his eyes. She looked into his green-pricing eyes, rolling her fingers on his trimmed beard. "Concentrate on my lips." He synced, licking his lips. Her heart skipped a beat as he pressed her thin lips between his thumbs. And she moaned in response, rolling her eyes at his lips. "Seal your lips on mine and chew it up like an ice cream." He explained the first step, bending his head to seal her lips. "Aaaachuuuuu!!" She sneezed loudly before he sealed her lips. "ANGELINA." He yelled at the top of his lungs. "I’m sorry, hubby." Angelina closed her eyes, covering them with both hands. Angelina is a twenty-year-old college student with lots of goals in life, but she doesn't have parents to give her pocket money and support her financially. But one day, she married a billionaire and then her tragic life turned into a romantic one. Now the question is - how will Angelina satisfy her husband and his desires when she has only experienced struggles in her past life?

Lena Marchetti, twenty-eight, operates on fumes. Her father Marco's cancer treatments have swallowed her savings and the final credits of her degree. She interns at Croft Industries, a glass tower engineered to diminish. She is invisible, sweat gluing her blouse to her spine, until she drops Julian Croft's Montblanc pen. The crack on marble halts breath. She scrabbles on cold stone. When she lifts her chin, Julian crouches beside her. He doesn't retrieve the pen. He waits. His gray eyes hold hers, and heat floods her neck, damp and unwelcome. "You break it, you buy it," he says. "And you can't afford it." He leaves her kneeling. At 3:17 AM, her phone blares: Croft. Office. One hour. She goes. His office smells of leather and ozone. He slides a contract across the desk. Six months. Exclusivity. Her compliance. In exchange, her father's debt dissolves. Her signature slants, barely legible. After her best friend Dani labels Julian a sociopath, Lena sobs in the service elevator. He finds her. "Come with me." He escorts her to a 24-hour diner. He orders cherry pie, slides it across formica. She is wrecked—blotched skin, swollen lids. He studies her as if memorizing the topography of her distress. He teaches her to fence. She lunges, jabs his ribs. He laughs in that rusted, startled way that travels up her calves. She registers: I manufactured that sound. Elara Vance, Julian's former mentor who sold his first deal for a board seat, resurfaces. She invites Lena to lunch, offers employment. "He'll never perceive you as an equal. Work for me. Become a threat." The words burrow. Lena's palms dampen at his touch. While Julian travels, she picks the lock of a hidden room. A library.

"Shut up and take all our cocks, pretty slut." Three cocks stuffed inside me at once — one buried in my pussy so deep, one stretching my ass wide enough to make me scream, one choking my throat until spit pours down my chin and pools between my tits. ⚠ WARNING ⚠ This book is filthy. Not cute-spicy-chapter filthy. Cum-dripping-from-every-hole-on-the-first-page filthy. If that makes you uncomfortable, close the book. If you're already clenching, keep reading. Throw away every safe, sweet romance you've ever touched. This collection doesn't ask permission. It kicks the door down, drags you to the floor by your hair, and fucks you raw until you forget your own name. No slow burn. No boring buildup. No fade-to-black bullshit. Every story starts fast, hits hard, and doesn't stop until she's stuffed, stretched, dripping, and begging for more. Stepbrothers and stepfathers who fuck her while mommy sleeps, strict professors who fuck their grade A students, Hockey team players who pass her and breed her, dangerous men who settle debts with every hole, Alphas who knot her and lock their cum so deep it stays till the next day. Every dirty, forbidden dynamic you've been too embarrassed to search for — it's in here. These stories explore your darkest kinks. Choking. Breeding. Gangbangs. BDSM. Double penetration. Knotting. Degradation. Praise kink. Wax play. Face slapping. Spitting. Creampies. Cum on her face, in her throat, leaking from every hole. Raw, unprotected, no-pulling-out sex. If the thought of being held down, stretched open, and filled until cum is running down your thighs makes you squeeze your legs together — You're exactly where you belong. Turn the page. Your men are waiting. And they're starving.

Warning- Mature Audiences only!. -Strong sexual content. - rated language. Original work. Description: "Get up!." He commanded. His voice was stern and his cold blue eyes pierced into my skin. I didn't look fazed by his intimidating demeanor. "You muckerfucker blood-sucking demon." I cussed, biting down my lower lip to hinder myself from not raining more curses at him. He smirked. He glided across the room until he stood in front of me, I looked right into his eyes as he lowered down to my level. His hand gripped my chin up, his blue eyes looking deep into mine. "You won't end well if you continue to speak to me like that," I smirked. "I am not afraid of you!" He smiled but it didn't reach his eyes. "And you're afraid of death, I am death." My jaw dropped. He knows where to get me. He let go of me seeing my frightened look and looking satisfied. "But you didn't have to kill that girl for my sake. She did nothing." "Someone's going to cover up for you." He turned around and went to sit on my bed. "But I didn't kill him. There was nothing to cover up for." "Oh, dear." He said and lit his joint up. "He died." I froze. I killed someone too. I've stained my hands with blood. "Don't look too surprised and all that stunned. That's one thing you'll learn how to do and face. You've got to learn how to kill." *** Vanora Campbell's mom died leaving her with her uncaring father, she blamed her father for killing her mother and lived so carelessly thereafter. Her life turned upside down when her dad sold her to the Italian mafia boss, Zavi Covillie.

I beg to differ that.", I sassed and got out of his grip ready to move out of the room when he pulled me by my elbow and the next second I was pushed on the visitor's chair. He trapped me completely by keeping his palms on the arms of the chair. "I tried to tell you patiently.", I scoffed at his words. Patience and he don't go in a single sentence. He gripped my chin making me look into his eyes."Now listen carefully Miss, I want you for my niece as her babysitter. Tell me how much you'll take and we can seal the deal." This time it was me who blinked once, twice and thrice. "But I don't want to work for you." See the reason was absolutely clear. I liked the kid since the moment I met her but I hated this man from the moment I gazed into his eyes. "How much?" I frowned."You really think your money can make everyone dance on your tips?" "1200 dollars a week." I rolled my eyes making him lean towards me." 1500?" "Make it 15000 and still I won't work for you.", I retorted and pushed him. I walked to the door and gave him one glance."Next time when you talk to me, make sure you keep all your richness aside. That's one thing that I never want to see you again, you self-centred CEO." "We shall see." . . . Brave but lonely. Passionate but sensitive. That's Arielle Summers. For everyone, Money, Assets and happiness may be supreme but to her, self-respect is prime. Cold and reckless. Commanding and ruthless. That was Nicolas Arnold. He only cared for his niece, his Mama and his friends. Love life didn't exist until- she came into the picture.

“Tell me again,” he murmured, his bare chest a hot, dangerous brand against her back. His teeth grazed the shell of her ear, making her shudder. “How you want me to treat you.” She clutched the silk sheets, dragging them up to her chin, hating the tremor in her voice. “I—I want you to be professional.” A low, dark laugh ghosted over her damp skin. “Then stop looking at me like that.” His amused, arctic-blue eyes held hers captive in the bedroom mirror. She squeezed her eyes shut, wondering what in the world she’d gotten herself into. ^ ^ ^ Isabella Rossi’s life shattered when she discovered her boyfriend’s affair with her best friend, Chloe. The happy couple were even expecting a baby, and she was supposed to be happy for them. Hah. Heartbreak was just the beginning. Drunk and deceived, she woke up in the bed of a powerful, enigmatic stranger—Vincent Sinclair. She thought it was a one-time, humiliating mistake. A secret she would bury forever. Until Monday morning, when Vincent Sinclair strolled into her office as the new, ruthless CEO. And she found out he was her ex-best friend Chloe’s half-brother. Flustered but confident, she met his eyes. Men like him didn’t remember girls like her. She was sure of it. He was most likely just an entitled playboy and the faces in his bed probably blurred. But oh, how wrong she was. Vincent Sinclair remembered everything. Finding his "one-night stand" playing the part of a forgettable employee was his new favorite amusement. First, he made her his personal secretary. Then, he made her life a living, tempting hell. Finally, he served her a contract. Not for a raise—for marriage. It was absurd. But with her life in shambles and his offer too lucrative, Isabella signed.

“Where have you been, Cosette Blanche Warren?” he whispered darkly. My throat went dry. I could feel his hands roaming down my thighs, his touch possessive. “Someone saw my wife with Franklyn Carrington today,” Yohan continued, his voice deceptively sweet. “Tell me, Mrs. Warren… is that true?” A chill ran through me. His tone wasn’t affectionate—it was laced with something far more dangerous. “Open your eyes.” I jolted at his sudden command and immediately obeyed. My body trembled under the weight of his stare. His fingers curled under my chin, tilting my face closer. Slowly, agonizingly, he licked the corner of my lips before whispering against them. “What did I tell you before, wife?” Tears welled up as I struggled to form words. “I-I’m not allowed to meet…other men,” I stammered. “Hmmm.” His fingers traced lazy circles on my waist before pressing a kiss to my cheek. “Then explain what happened earlier.” “Franklyn is just a friend, Yohan. I-I wasn’t doing anything wro—” “Liar!” he roared. I flinched as tears spilled down my cheeks. A scream tore from my throat when Yohan suddenly lifted me, throwing me onto the bed. My eyes widened in terror as he hovered over me, his expression twisted with something unrecognizable. “No one else can come near you, touch you, or even look at you because you belong to me alone, Cosette Blanche Warren!” His voice was a venomous snarl. “You will never escape me! You will never be happy! Because I won’t allow it!” Then, he laughed. A dark, menacing sound that sent a shiver down my spine. Tears streamed down my face as I squeezed my eyes shut. This was my life now.

"This birthday has been absolutely amazing" he said wrapping his arms around my waist and putting his chin just above my right shoulder. "Bub, we barely just started" I chuckled. "Yeah but just looking at this beautiful view with you is more than enough to make me happy" he stated. I smiled then turned around so I'm facing him. I pulled down our mask since there weren't anyone else around. I gave him a kiss on the lips. "You realize how much I love you, right?" I said. He smiled. "How much do you love me?" he asked cheekily. "If I'm being honest, I love you more than love itself" I started making him smile wide. "I love you more than how much I love the scent of vanilla" I said. "I love you more than how much I love the moon and the stars" I continued. "I love you more than how much I love listening to music" I added. "Lastly, I love you more than I can ever love myself" I confessed. He looked at me lovingly. "Brielle" he said softly. "Yes?" I replied. "Will you marry me?" he asked. My heart skipped a beat. "Yes" I said. _ Gabrielle Margareth Rivero is a multi-talented woman. She travels thousands of kilometers away from home to work and achieve her dreams. What she thought was going to be a simple, laid-back and independent life in another country becomes one full with modelling, acting and guesting offers after her name ends up on the news. But then , her plan to stay single for who knows how long ends up in the gutter when she suddenly meets the guy of her dreams; Theodore King, a superstar and billionaire with the visual and charisma of a God and a heart of an angel.

TRIGGER WARNING!! DARK ROMANCE Sexual content, Slavery, 18+, Violence, and Abusive content. "don't kill her" his dominant voice echoed in the room. when I opened my eyes to look at the ruthless Alpha king walking towards me, who killed everyone in my pack. he looked at me with his deep blue ocean eyes and I can't tell what is going on in his head but, he squatted down to my level and looked at my face, observing everything. he grabbed my chin, still looking at my face, and told me in his cold dominant voice, almost harsh "my mate?". Everyone around us grasped in shock other than me. I know that and I hate to be his mate! I can hear them whispering but I don't know what they were talking about as I don't care about anything now! I was only looking at him with anger and hate. I knew that I am his mate but I can never be with someone like him as a mate. I will never be a mate to a wolf, who killed my whole family. His perfect lips were covered in a smirk, making him look so handsome. when he told me in his cold voice "you are not worth being my mate so you will be my personal slave from now on, get her" and he just got up and started to walk away from me like he doesn't care about what I want?. what happens when the person who is supposed to protect you, make you happy, and give butterflies in your stomach, hurts you the most? what happens if you are so powerless that you can't do anything? and what if you want revenge? what will be the story between the broken Princess and the ruthless Alpha king? instagramHanna_swetha_author

Jarek’s hand slides over my ass like a challenge, slow and deliberate, like he wants me to feel exactly where he thinks I belong. I don’t hesitate. My palm cracks across his face—sharp, loud, final. “Careful,” he says quietly, fingers digging into my hip instead of letting go. “You keep hitting men like that, someone’s going to hit back.” I tilt my chin up. “Try it.” ⸻ My parents owed Luke Jones money. I paid the debt with my body, my name, and a marriage I never agreed to. On paper, Luke is my husband. President of the Vipers MC. Untouchable. Behind closed doors, he’s a man who can’t keep an erection and punishes me for it—with fists, words, and silence. The only man that ever gave a shit a bout me was my brother, Steve. Luke’s best friend. His VP. Now Steve is dead. And Luke has finally stopped pretending. He moves Steve’s old lady into the clubhouse. Watches her. Wants her. Just like he always has. I secretly divorce him, disappear to the next town over. And I walk straight into the territory of a rival MC. Its president, Jarek Solen, notices me immediately. He’s dangerous. Controlled. Watching. The kind of man who doesn’t beg, doesn’t threaten—and doesn’t take no lightly. I refuse him anyway. Instead, I prospect his club. Earn my place the hard way. I don’t want another man. But Jarek Solen doesn’t see me as broken goods or borrowed property. He sees me as his. And when Luke realizes his wife is gone and his control is slipping—Jarek won’t hand me back. He’ll start a war. Because the Biker King doesn’t steal women. He claims what chooses him.